


Five Dances Puck and Kurt Shared, and One They Missed

by cuspofqueens



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-23
Updated: 2011-12-23
Packaged: 2017-10-27 22:50:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/300898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuspofqueens/pseuds/cuspofqueens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based off of a fic meme prompt on LJ's Puckurt community, only expanded. Kind of a lot. *g* Prompt to follow at the end of the story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Dances Puck and Kurt Shared, and One They Missed

**1\. Smooth - Santana feat. Rob Thomas**

See, the thing is, Santana’s kind of a crafty bitch. And Puck? Well, he’s kind of got a big mouth. Between the two of them, little things happen, like Puck talking smack to Santana, and her making him back his shit up.

And when _that_ happens, well... It’s a good thing the hobbit is such a good sport?

What happens is this:

Puck and San are walking down the hall to the auditorium for a rehearsal after school. He’s got his arm around her shoulders, more to keep her from lunging at the douches who stare at her than because he’s feeling any more affectionate towards her than normal. In fact, trying to distract her from those looks is exactly how he gets into trouble.

“So, I heard you tried to make a move on Britt and ended up spilling her drink all over her. Smooth, Lopez, real smooth.”

Santana’s face flames, but that doesn’t stop her half-hearted retort. “Bitch, you wish you were this smooth! Besides,” Santana’s smile is sly as she looks up at him from half-lidded eyes. “It got her out of her shirt, didn’t it?”

He laughs. “Bitch, you wish _you_ were this smooth.”

She scoffs. “Yeah, because it takes some moves to get those desperate housewives to drop their panties. Please! Let me see you challenging heterosexual norms and _then_ we’ll talk.”

“Psh, I’ll challenge whatever the hell I want, I’m El Puckerone!” They’re walking into the auditorium now, and Santana shrugs off his arm and crosses her arms as she turns to face him.

“Oh, really? You think you got balls, Mr. Smooth?”

Puck lets his grin tip up into a leer and eyes her up and down. “Oh, Santana, you of all people should know what I’ve got.”

Her nose crinkles up in disgust, even as she laughs and calls over her shoulder, eyes on his the entire time. “Hey, Porcelain!”

Behind her, Puck can see Hummel look over at them from where he’s leaning into Blaine. He rolls his eyes and touches the hobbit’s hand briefly, then saunters over.

“You bellowed?”

Puck watches as Santana smiles sweetly at him and laces her fingers over her shoulder. Kurt shifts a little and then slides his arm around her waist.

“I need a favor.”

Puck’s a little impressed by the way he arches his eyebrows and waits for her to continue.

“You remember that night we danced on the beach until three?”

Kurt smiles a little. “You mean the morning Coach caught us and had us running drills till we puked in retaliaton?”

Santana’s smile widens into a grin. Good times, apparently. “Puckerman, here, is under the impression that he’s got balls. Big enough balls, in fact, that he’s totally cool challenging heterosexual stereotypes. So I was wondering if you’d dance with him. He promises not to punch you,” she adds.

Puck huffs out a breath. Like that’s something Kurt needs to be afraid of. Puck’s all evolved and shit, he knows better than that.

Kurt raises an eyebrow and gives Puck that an evaluating look. “I don’t know if he can handle it.”

Puck bristles. “I can handle anything, and you’re no exception.” Kurt and Santana just smirk at him. “Whatever, how are we playing this?”

“Simple,” Santana says, “You and Kurt just dance before rehearsal starts. I’ll pick the music,” she glances at Kurt, “It’ll be the same stuff I taught you at Nationals. All you have to do is get through one dance with Kurt. No big, right?”

Puck glances between the two of them. “Your hobbit going to have a problem with you dancing with me?”

Kurt arches an eyebrow. “Blaine knows the difference between dancing and flirting. Then again, he also knows that he has _nothing_ to worry about.”

Puck hides his wince by turning it into an exaggeration. “Ouch, Princess. That cuts me deep.”

Kurt just rolls his eyes and saunters off to go talk to the hobbit. Blaine looks back and forth between Puck and Kurt for a minute and then nods. Puck raises an eyebrow at the way Blaine pulls Kurt in for an extended kiss.

Puck has no idea what that churn in his stomach is, but he knows what it’s _not_ , and Puck meant it when he said he was cool with Kurt.

He’s about to prove it, when Santana runs off to Artie and hands him her iPod, then comes back and reaches out to straighten the collar of Puck’s flannel shirt. She’s amused as all hell, but her eyes are serious when she looks at him.

“Alright, all you’ve gotta do, is follow Kurt’s lead. Remember how we used to dance in home room in eighth grade? Pretend you’re me. But whatever you do, don’t punch him for this.”

Puck rolls his eyes. “I’m not gonna punch him. Better grab your seat, or you’re gonna miss the show.”

Kurt’s waiting for him on stage, and some smartass has turned on the spotlight. Puck takes a deep breath and walks forward to meet him.

“You ever done a salsa before?”

Puck shrugs a little. “Not backwards.”

Kurt grins. “You should be grateful you’re not in heels. Ready?”

Puck nods, and steps forward to meet Kurt, fumbling for a second with where to put his hands. Then Kurt’s arm is around his waist, fingers open and pressed against the small of Puck’s back. He nods somewhere off stage and with that, the music starts up; a throbbing, pulsing beat that makes Puck grin. Kurt matches his smile as he pushes back on Puck’s right hand.

It takes a minute to loosen up enough to dance as a follow. As soon as he figures out that his job is to relax and react, he’s got this, and to hell with the audience. Right around the first guitar solo, Kurt leads him into a turn, and then another one back that has Puck’s head spinning and a laugh threatening to break out.

He’s probably stiff or whatever, he’ll definitely never be as limber as Kurt, but damn, he’s having fun, and by the time the song is coming to a close, Puck is pressed up against Kurt from his knees to his chest, and he has to lean back a little to see Kurt’s satisfied grin.

Applause breaks out from the house, and Kurt flushes and drops Puck’s hand. They both turn to the rest of the group and Kurt takes a dramatic bow, pulling Puck’s other hand down so he has to bow, too.

It’s nice. Almost everyone is on their feet, hollering and laughing, and even Santana looks impressed. Everyone gets up on stage and Puck takes a few minutes to laugh and joke around. He keeps an eye on Kurt, watches the way Blaine gives him a huge hug and then appropriates the guy’s hand and doesn’t let go. He watches the way Kurt flushes again, the way the smile tilts up the corners of his mouth and barely twitches when Santana nudges him in the ribs.

He looks down and she’s got a Tupperware container that she’s opening and holding in his direction.

“Welcome to the dark side, Puckerman. Have a cookie.”

Puck laughs as he recognizes Brittany’s special naked cookies. “You buying me dinner later?” He asks as he snags one from her.

“You know it.” She tips a leer at him. “Me and Britt, we’ll take you out, show you a real good time.”

Puck just laughs and shakes his head, pulls Santana into a half-hug and leads her into the fray, where everybody else is finally getting into place for rehearsal.

***

 **2\. Love Me Or Leave Me - Sammy Davis, Jr.**

“Rock-step! Trip-le-step, trip-le-step! Rock-step! Trip-le-step, trip-le step! Rock-step!”

Puck and Santana scowl at each other with every rock-step. They’re partnered up to learn this thing while Brittany and Mike walk around the room, correcting stances and counts.

“Man, this is lame!”

“What’s lame is you using that word when we have a guy in a wheelchair _in the room_.” Quinn retorts from two couples over.

Puck drops Santana’s hand and turns to face Quinn. “Okay, first of all, Artie’s my boy, and he knows I don’t mean it like that. Secondly, if the guy I’m inadvertently offending is actually offended by my words, he knows that all he has to do is speak up. Third, all I meant is that I think we’ve all mastered the freaking rock-step by now, and doing it fifty million times is tedious, and I don’t see why we have to do it at all!”

Mike sighs and snags Brittany’s arm as she passes by. “Look, everyone. This is the end goal, okay?”

They count off, and then they’re moving, this twisty-turny thing that looks less like dancing and more like gliding and it’s smooth and cool and _that_ is something Puck can get behind.

“That’s a basic lindy eight count,” Mike announces when they’re done showing off. “That’s the end goal.”

“So why aren’t we learning that?” Sam asks.

“Because to get there, you have to start here,” Kurt answers, a bored look on his face as he examines his nails. “And if you don’t see the triple step in a Lindy Hop, you’re not looking hard enough.”

Puck huffs out a long sigh and scrubs his hands over his newly shorn scalp. It feels weird, not having the mohawk, but that’s what he gets for losing another bet to Santana.

“Why don’t we all rotate partners?” Brittany suggests. “It’s a good idea to learn how to dance with everybody, get used to different dancing styles. Let’s get all of the follows to move to the right one spot.”

“Yeah, and let’s try it with music this time,” Mike adds, walking over to the stereo.

Puck counts himself lucky that she told them to move to the right, because that means Quinn’s gonna be one of his last partners. He quirks a brow at Kurt when the guy stops in front of him.

“Shouldn’t you be leading?”

Kurt raises his eyebrows right back at him. “Why, can’t you?” He doesn’t wait for Puck to respond. “For your information, I already know how to lead a Lindy. We don’t have enough girls and frankly, the follow has more fun anyway. Problem?”

Puck shakes his head and reaches for Kurt’s hand as the music starts up. “No problem.”

 

***

 **3\. Angel From Montgomery - Susan Tedeschi**

“Oh, God, what do you want?”

Puck frowns at Kurt. “Nice to see you, too, Princess. Can I come in?”

Kurt steps back and lets Puck pass, then swings the door closed. “Finn’s not here,” he says flatly. He looks like shit. His hair’s all loose and hanging, and there’s a little red around his eyes, and he’s only wearing jeans and a t-shirt. Puck takes a moment to appreciate that Kurt’s off days are most guy’s normal days, then dismisses it.

“Oh. We were supposed to hang today. You know where he’s at?”

“No, Puckerman, I’m not his keeper.”

“Dude, what’s wrong?” Puck’s brow furrows as he tries to remember what he could have done lately to get on Kurt’s shit list.

Kurt huffs and stalks past Puck into the kitchen. Puck follows and leans against the counter as he watches Kurt open cupboard doors, stare inside for two seconds, and then slam them closed again. “Nothing’s wrong, I just don’t know where Finn is, and don’t see why everyone expects me to be the tab keeper of this family. Dad and Carole are off God knows where, doing I don’t even want to know what, acting like today’s not important, like I don’t even know what, like things don’t matter, like nothing even _matters_ any more.”

His voice breaks and he leans on a counter, his back to Puck. Kurt’s fists clench and his breathing is ragged and all at once, Puck knows what’s going on.

“Hey, hey, hey! None of that now, stop it.” He reaches forward and hovers uncertainly over Kurt’s shoulder, then lays his hand on it gently. He feels helpless and uncertain and he’s not above begging as he tugs on Kurt’s shoulder and brings the other guy into his arms. “Stop, stop. I don’t even like it when girls start crying on me, and you’re definitely not a girl, so come on. Cut me a break, huh?”

Kurt gives a watery laugh and hides his face in Puck’s shoulder as his arms creep around Puck’s ribs. “Sorry. It’s just - bad day.”

“Clearly,” Puck mutters, earning another laugh. “Where’s the hobbit?”

Kurt pulls away then, rolls his eyes and wipes his cheeks as he takes a few steps back and forth along the kitchen. “I assume he’s at home,” Kurt replies. “I’ve forbidden him from coming over while I’m like this. Maybe tomorrow.”

“Uh huh,” Puck replies. He hops up onto the counter and ignores Kurt’s dirty look. “And why are you like this exactly?”

“I don’t want to talk about it with you,” Kurt says, and reaches into a kitchen drawer for a spoon. It’s the first thing he’s actually gotten out so far.

“Well, Princess, it looks like you have to talk to someone and since I’m the only one here, you might as well talk to me.”

Kurt leans against the counter opposite Puck and folds his arms over his chest. His stare is stubborn and resolute for all of about ten seconds, when blue eyes fill with tears, and he’s turning away again. In a flash, Puck is jumping off of the counter and pulling Kurt close again, this time rocking him back and forth a little.

“Talk to me,” he says. “What’s wrong?”

Kurt takes a ragged breath and lays his head on Puck’s shoulder. This time he clings to Puck and doesn’t let go. Puck tries to ignore the hot breath on his neck; the shuddering under hands.

“Today is the anniversary of my mom’s death,” Kurt says, and Puck’s eyes close. Damn. He had hoped it was something he could fix or beat up for him. “And my dad’s...gone. He took a weekend with Carole, I don’t know why they left, just that they did. I haven’t seen Finn since school yesterday and nobody’s called me, and,” here Kurt’s breath hitches. “It’s just a bad day,” he finishes miserably, curling closer.

Puck shakes his head and silently curses Finn’s inability to pay attention to detail. “Have you been to visit her yet?”

Kurt nods. “I took flowers to her grave this morning.”

Puck nods, too. He can hear music from the other room, a song starting up. He recognizes the chords, but not the voice. “Who are you listening to?” he asks, drawing Kurt away from the counters into the middle of the kitchen. He starts swaying to the beat, taking one of Kurt’s hands in his and holding it to his chest in a loose, relaxed pose.

“Susan Tedeschi,” Kurt murmurs, raising his head and looking at their linked hands. “The Austin City Limits version. My mom - she liked the original, but I think Susan does it better.”

“Blasphemy,” Puck teases softly.

“Probably,” Kurt agrees, nestling closer. “I don’t care, though. I like the violin. Or is it a fiddle in a blues band?”

“Dunno,” Puck murmurs, listening to the music. Kurt’s right, she’s good. “How long have you been listening to it?”

Kurt shrugs. He still won’t look at Puck. “Like an hour or two.”

“Right.” Puck pulls Kurt a little closer and enjoys the rest of the song.

He lets go and steps back, then places his fingers under Kurt’s chin and tilts his head up to meet his eyes. “How about we watch a movie, instead? Did your mom have any favorites?”

Kurt looks confused. “You don’t have to stay with me.”

“I’m not,” Puck replies easily. “I’m waiting for Finn to get his sorry ass back here so I can chew him out for ditching me. It’s not my fault you happen to be here, too.”

The corners of Kurt’s mouth tip up in a small smile. “Ever seen Casablanca?”

“As a matter of fact, I have. My nana’s a fan.”

“Want some ice cream? You can have Finn’s pint.”

Puck grins. “Sounds perfect.”

***

 **4\. Paralyzer - Finger Eleven**

“That motherfucking son of a _bitch!_ ”

Puck doesn’t think he’s ever heard Kurt swear like that before, and he’s definitely never seen him mess up his hair for the sake of frustration. He almost doesn’t want to interrupt his continued muttering.

“Problem?” Puck asks.

Kurt startles, turns and sees Puck leaning up against the wall next to the sliding glass doors, guitar cradled in his hands. “Oh, it’s you.” He sighs a little. “Why are you always around when I’m not at my best?”

Puck hopes that’s one of those questions that doesn’t require an answer, because saying he thinks it’s cute is probably not conducive to...anything, really.

“What’s up?” he asks instead.

Kurt’s mouth twists. “Let’s just say Blaine and I have decided to part ways, and my feelings right now are less than amicable.”

“Dude, I’ve never been the hobbit’s biggest fan, you can call him a douchebag in front of me. I’m not gonna cry about it.”

Kurt just smiles and shakes his head. “Don’t call me ‘dude’.”

“Why’d you guys pick Nationals to break up, though?”

Now he sighs. “That part wasn’t intentional. We just...got into one fight too many, and quite frankly I don’t want to spend my trip with a boyfriend who is acting like an ass.”

Puck nods. He gets it. “You gonna do all that mopey shit the girls do? You know, the ice cream and the shopping and the badmouthing boys in your nightgowns or whatever?”

Kurt shoots him an unimpressed look. “I realize the whole gay concept is still beyond you, but I don’t actually have a vagina.”

“It’s not beyond me,” Puck replies, “I just wanted to know if the girls had you or if you’re coming with us tonight.”

Kurt straightens. “Why? What are you guys doing tonight?”

“Clubbing,” Puck throws out, wondering if he can get the guys to back him up at the last minute. “We thought we’d get out of here and do it up right, since Lima doesn’t really have a club scene like New York does.”

Kurt snorts in something like agreement. “Yeah. Yeah, all right. I’ll go with you guys. What did you have in mind?”

Puck shrugs. “Somewhere dark and crowded and loud.”

It gets him a little laugh. “All right. I’ll go change. Say we leave in an hour? We can stop somewhere for food first.”

“Yeah, sounds good.”

Puck waits until walks back inside before following him and going in search of Finn. He’s curled up with Berry, holding onto her as they giggle at each other.

“Right, go get dressed, we’re going out tonight.”

“What?” Finn asks, “Why?”

“Bro-code, dude, just do it.”

It’s a testament to how long they’ve been friends that Finn just sighs, gives Rachel a kiss on the forehead and untangles himself from her.

After a brief explanation, Mike’s game, and so is Sam. It looks like Artie’s already been cornered by the hobbit, so he’s out. Puck goes to get changed, pleased with himself. Not bad for a last minute round-up.

Eventually, they’re all ready to go. Kurt looks good, jeans and a basic black t-shirt that he must have borrowed off someone else. He’s wearing that eyeliner shit and chapstick or something that makes his mouth look pink.

They run into Artie and the hobbit in the hallway before they even leave the hotel. Artie looks kind of helpless as he shrugs and follows Blaine down the hall. Kurt just raises his chin and lets them pass without comment.

They stop at a roach coach for dinner while they decide where to go. The food promises to be good, if the crowd is any indication. Eventually they settle on an all-ages mixed club, because Kurt and Mike don’t have fake I.D.s.

The end result is that when they step into the loud, crowded nightclub, everyone is comfortable and kind of excited. Finn, Kurt and Puck all make a beeline for the bar, while Mike jumps onto the dance floor and Sam goes cruising for a dance partner.

It takes all of two minutes for some twink to start hitting on Kurt, who looks flattered and a little overwhelmed when he nods and lets the guy pull him out onto the dance floor. Puck turns back to the bar and orders a Coke, wishing he could add some Jack to it.

“You know,” Finn says, “Things would be a lot easier if you would just tell him.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Puck lies.

“Bullshit. You know exactly what I’m talking about. I haven’t said anything before because Kurt was with somebody but he’s not now, and I think you should tell him.”

“Dude just broke up with his boyfriend, I’m pretty sure he needs some time to get over that before someone else makes a move.”

“Oh, really? Somebody should’ve told the guy feeling Kurt up, then.”

Puck whips around and, sure enough, the twink that’d pulled him out onto the dance floor in the first place was making a move, and the kicker is Kurt’s _letting_ him, with this half-resolved, half-terrified look on his face even though his eyes are closed.

That’s all it takes to get Puck pushing off the bar and threading through the crowd, coming up behind Kurt and forcibly removing the guy’s hands. Puck snarls when he goes to protest, then watches as the guy raises his hands and backs away, vanishing into the crowd.

Kurt turns around, indignant and confused. “What is your problem?” he shouts, more to be heard over the music than with any malicious intent. “We were just dancing!”

“Yeah? Dance with me then.” Puck grabs Kurt’s hips and slots them up against his, rolling with the music and hoping he’s not making a big mistake. Blue eyes narrow, and he must take it as some kind of challenge to freak out the straight guy because long arms wind around Puck’s neck as Kurt starts rocking back and forth in counterpoint to Puck’s rhythm.

That rhythm stutters when Kurt registers the hardness against his hip. Blue eyes fly to his, brow furrowed and mouth open just a little. “Puck?”

Puck covers his nerves and pulls Kurt’s hips a little closer, drawing him back into the pulsing beat of the song, daring to place a hand on small of Kurt’s back.

He gets away with it, but as soon as the song is over, Kurt is pulling away and then pulling him off of the dance floor, pulling him by the hand and then leading him outside into the quiet.

“What the hell was that??”

Puck shrugs and leans against the building opposite the club, eyes on the ground in front of him. “Dancing.”

“That was more than just dancing, and you know it, Noah Puckerman. What in the ever loving _hell_ was that? You’re not gay!”

Now Puck raises his eyes to meet Kurt’s. “I’m not straight either, and just because I’ve learned not to broadcast my shit all over school doesn’t mean a damned thing.”

Kurt throws up his hands with a bitter laugh. “Great, another closeted jock.”

That brings him up off of the wall. “I am _not_ closeted. Everyone that needs to know, does. That includes my ma and my sister and the best friends who can see that I’ve had a crush on you for months!”

 _”What?”_

“I haven’t said anything, and I wasn’t gonna say anything tonight, until I saw that guy with his hands all over you. And what the hell? What does he have, that I don’t? You’re gonna let some total stranger touch you? You don’t even know him.”

“I don’t even know _you_ right now, Noah! Why didn’t you tell me? At any point, why didn’t you say something? And what do you mean, you weren’t going to say anything tonight? Were you ever going to tell me?”

“Maybe!” Puck replies defensively. “You just broke up three hours ago, I’m not gonna be your rebound! I want more than that!”

Kurt’s face softens, and he steps forward. “You still should have told me.”

“I was gonna,” Puck mumbles.

“You’re not going to be my rebound,” Kurt promises. “And you’re right; I need a little time to get over my relationship with Blaine. But until I do, can we go back inside and keep dancing?”

Puck brightens and takes Kurt’s outstretched hand. “Yeah. Let’s do that.”

***

 **5\. East Of The Sun (And West Of The Moon) - Diana Krall**

Puck groans and lets all of his weight lean into Kurt, toppling him over onto the sofa and smiling a little at the giggle that he gets. “If I ask you really nicely, can we just not do history?”

Kurt scratches gently over Puck’s scalp and massages his neck a little. “Nice try, but no.”

Puck sighs, then smiles into Kurt’s neck. “What if I blow you? Can we skip history then?”

Kurt laughs. “Tempting... but no. You’re going to get your diploma if Santana and I have to drag you kicking and screaming to graduation, and to do that, you have to study.”

“But my brain is mushy!” Puck whines, pouting and pushing up into Kurt’s hand when he stops petting him. “I don’t think I can take any more!”

Kurt hugs him closer and drops a kiss to his scalp. “We can take a little break,” he compromises. “Want to dance?”

Puck looks up at him. “With you? Always.”

It’s always awesome when the truth gets him that smile, the soft one that leads to kisses. This time it leads to Kurt nudging at Puck so he can slide out from under him, and reaching a hand out to help him up, too.

They move the coffee table and the sofa out of the way. Kurt walks over to his stereo and starts fiddling with his iPod.

“Lead or follow?” he asks.

“I’ll follow today.”

That gets him a smile. Kurt was right; it’s more fun to follow, to let Kurt lead, and dance securely in the knowledge that if Kurt wants something, he’ll tell him. Besides, Puck can’t keep the steps for leading a West Coast Swing or a Lindy Hop straight in his head - so they’ve solved that problem by making it so Puck always leads a Lindy and follows in a West Coast Swing. It works for them, and when Kurt presses play and then leads him straight into a turn, Puck lets himself grin and meet Kurt’s answering smile.

They follow the nice, easy rhythm for a few songs and Puck feels himself relax; all the muscles in his shoulders loosening up and unknotting themselves until Kurt must see that something’s changed, because he draws him into a nice, easy kiss and then pulls Puck back down to the coffee table, ignoring the little sigh and leaving the music playing.

Puck looks over at a happy, relaxed Kurt and thinks there are worse ways to spend his Saturday.

***

 **+1. Unforgettable - Nat ‘King’ Cole feat Natalie Cole**

When Noah Puckerman was in high school, he would have laughed in your face for suggesting this is where he’d end up, right after he decked you.

Luckily Noah’s grown a lot in the ten years since high school. He’d graduated, and surprised everyone with his acceptance into the City University of New York. It’d led to Kurt and Noah’s first big fight. Noah had been hurt that Kurt didn’t believe he could do it, Kurt had been upset that Noah didn’t trust him enough to tell him he was trying in the first place.

Two weeks of not talking to each other saw Kurt swallowing his pride an apologizing to Puck; and not six weeks later, they were on their way to New York.

They both juggled school and work and time together. It wasn’t always easy, but it was worth it, five years later when Kurt was working lighting design on Broadway and Puck was graduating with his Bachelor’s in Architecture.

Another three year program, this time in Architecture and Urban Planning at Columbia finally saw the two moving in together. Damn near seven years they’d been together, at that point, and still they had enough insecurities in themselves and their relationship that they hadn’t wanted to take that step.

Kurt was big on ‘what if’s, and never any good ones. Puck was big on self-doubt, and it eventually took Burt sitting Puck down and knocking some sense into him to make him understand that Noah was going to lose the best thing he had going for him if he didn’t swallow his fear and take that step.

He was right, of course, and it was good. Better than good. Noah still had his studies and his job as an intern at a popular architecture firm, and Kurt still had his two part time jobs to pay bills while he auditioned for everything available to him; but now when they went home, it was to each other.

And on their tenth anniversary, after they’d been together for so long, and no one ever thought of them as individuals any more, Noah finally got the nerve to ask Kurt if he would be willing to make it official.

Kurt had just rolled his eyes and pulled Noah up into a kiss, and danced with him on the roof of their building as the sun rose, humming a tune in his ear, and telling him he loved him with every press of their hands.

Now as the music starts up, Noah looks over at his new husband and smiles, because he’s still the most beautiful thing in the room.

He’s learned to lead in a Waltz, and he does, turning his mother into a graceful spin and catching her lightly, smiling down at the happiness on her lined face.

Across the dance floor, Kurt and his father are dancing, too. Words just can’t express how happy Noah is to have finally made it this far, but he tries when the song ends, pulling his mother into a tight hug and whispering his gratitude for everything she ever did for him growing up.

It makes her eyes well up, even as she pushes him away and he turns to meet his new husband on the dance floor. Both of them bow at each other formally, then step forward and meet in the middle with a clasp of hands.

**Author's Note:**

> youaredriving's prompt from the fic meme: _An intimate moment between Puck and Kurt, dancing to something sensual and romantic._
> 
> Thanks to firredheadedelf for the beta, and ubervirgin and kyrdwn for the hand-holding.


End file.
